I F Love Hockey!
by Remote-Controlled Button
Summary: Canada takes Amercia to his frist, and probably last, Hockey game against Russia. Warning: There is a bit of swearing in this story, but no sexual refrences or anything, just to let you know


"I Fucking Love Hockey!"

America sat contently in his living room, decked out in the year's winning Super Bowl team's jersey. He held a bottle of beer in one hand and a over sized bowl of popcorn in the other as he watched a recording of the biggest game of the year; Football.

He leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his beer, smiling to himself. There was no sport like the American sport. "I wonder why no one else plays this sport," he muttered to himself.

About half way through the second inning, there came a light rapping on his door that he almost didn't hear. The knock came again, a little louder than the last set. He glanced at his screen, then at his door, and then, with a sigh, pulled his ass out of his recliner and answered the door.

"Go team!" In the doorway stood Canada wearing a red, Canadian sweat shirt, foam fingers, and a shy but excited smile. His cheeks where almost redder than his shirt. He gave a quiet chuckle and threw out his arms. "Are you ready for the game?!"

America stared at his twin, puzzlement clouding his bright blue eyes."Uh, what are you talking about, Mattie?"

Canada seemed to deflate on the spot. His foam fingered hand dropped to his side. "You mean, you don't remember your promise?" His bottom lip quivered and tears filled his eyes.

"What promise?" America looked his brother up and down. "You're not high are ya, Bro?" He asked, patting his little brother playfully on the head.

Canada turned slightly angry and his whispering went horse."Remember, at the Super Bowl?"

_ 'But I-I don't wanna go. Football is weird. P-please America!"_

_ America turned to his struggling brother. "Haha! Come on, Canada! Football is awesome! You'll love it."_

_ Canada crossed his arms and pouted. "Then h-how come you're the only country that plays it?"_

_ That caused his older brother to stop in his tracks."Uh… I don't know but come on! We're gonna miss all the good seats!" And he began to drag Canada who promptly stuck his legs out to stop his forward motion._

_ "N-n-o! America!"_

_ America suddenly stopped again, making Canada stumble to prevent from falling. Alfred turned to face his twin, which made the timid country cringe. _

"_I'll make you a deal. If you go to this one game, this one game that is REALLY important to me, I'll go to something of yours that is near and dear to you! What do you think?"_

_ Canada thought for a moment, eyes thoughtful. He finally looked up into his brother's face and smiled regretfully. "Fine. But only if it's on a Hero's honor!"_

_ "Haha! Of course! Now let's go!" And he continued to drag his still struggling brother off to the arena._

"Oh… Right. About that." America said rubbing the back of his head, and his eyes being drawn back to his TV set.

A tear streaked Canada's rosy cheeks. "But you promised on a Hero's honor!"

America sighed and looked to his brother's pleading face, and back to his television. He caved. "Fine I'll go! But let me go get changed."

His little brother jumped for joy and hugged America. "Awesome! Dress warm." And he chucked a matching sweat shirt at his face.

America had never been to a hockey arena. Heck, he'd never seen a hockey game before! As he sat in his seat, decked out in his own Canadian sweat shirt, he began to examine the structure and the spectators within it while Canada was at the snack bar.

The rink had a closed ceiling and smelt like stale beer and sweat. Hockey fans from all over wore their team's colors and hollered for them. The room was filled with the chatter of eager fans.

"Snacks ahoy!" Called Canada as he inched over to their seats. He carried a six pack of beer, two pretzels, a large soda for America, and a giant tub of pop corn to split. He looked happier, happier than America could recall him being.

After handing out the snacks, Canada plopped down on the edge of his seat and clutched his hands in to nervous, but eager fists. "I can't wait to get started," he said, sounding flustered.

America nodded. He had to admit, the pre-game atmosphere was getting to him. He glanced over at the opposing team and realized he didn't recognize what team they were rooting for.

"Hey," he said tapping his brother's shoulder. "Who are you playing?"

"That would be me."

The two twins spun around and looked up into the smiling face of Russia and his three cronies, Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania. America about chocked on his pretzel in surprise.

"I-Ivan?" America coughed.

"Ah, America. I see you came to witness your little brother's indisputable defeat." The Russian turned his deep purple eyes on Canada while Latvia mouthed 'Help us' behind him.

"What do you want," growled Canada, something America had never heard him do. His eyes were slits and his teeth clamped together like an iron grip. America suddenly felt worried for his life.

Russia did not feel the same. He just laughed and placed his hand on his opponent's shoulder. "Just to wish you luck! You're gonna need it!" He sang and gesturing to his men, turned and left. Latvia made a begging gesture and whispered 'Save us' as Russia lead him by the elbow.

America just sat there, wide eyed and speechless. He had a weird feeling that this was only the first of the many and scaring events to come. But his moment of discomfort was interrupted as the buzzer rang to start the game and hockey fans alike rose from their seats and cried out their joy. He found himself and Canada do the same thing.

For the first two innings or whatever they were called, America sat in numb state of not knowing. But, being the sport fanatic he was, he quickly caught on to the game. So far it was a tie.

At the moment, a Canadian player had the puck, but it wasn't meant to be as a Russian player came up from the side and rammed the poor fellow, making him loose the puck. The Russian fans screamed their pleasure while the Canadians screamed profanity back.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, BASTERED?!"

America almost spewed the contents of his mouth for the second time that day from surprise. He turned to look at his brother who was now standing up and red in the face.

"C-Canada?"

The Canadian turned on him and about made him fall out of his seat. His little brother had bloodlust in his eyes and was ready to tear his head off.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT, FAG?"

America swallowed hard. "A-a-are you ok?"

Canada let out a horrible unCanada like laugh. "Of course I am!" And he opened another beer and began yelling at the players on the ice.

"LISTEN TO YOUR COUNTRY! WIN GOD DAMN IT!"

From across the way, they could see Russia who noticed them and gave them a little wave. Canada promptly flipped him off. America just sunk lower into his seat.

What kind of horrible sport turned cute and timid little brothers into crazed, cursing sports freak?

And so the game continued with more blood and gore than any war movie America had ever seen. There was even a point where a few of the Canadian players totally lost sight of the point of the game, and began beating a Russian player senseless. The ref claimed he had no idea when the opposing team called for justice.

The whole time, Canada was screaming his lungs out and egging on his team's violent behavior. One spectator turned around at one point and asked him to calm it down a bit. The over-hyped country just glared at the man and then threw his half empty bottle at the poor man's head. After that, everyone thought twice about talking to him, even America.

America thought he was going to pee his pants he was so scared of his brother. He about jumped out of his pants when Canada asked him a question.

"SO HOW DO YOU LIKE THE GAME SO FAR?"

"Um, I-I like it-"

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Canada had lost interest in his brother and returned to yelling at the game bellow. It's was just as well since America was having a small heart attack at the moment.

The game was almost over. Both teams just needed one more point to beat the other. You could just taste the tension between players and fans alike. It was a rather bitter and sweaty taste, which America preferred not to taste.

The players stood in a line, facing one another, waiting for the puck to drop. The whole room was holding its breath; this was the final countdown. No one said a word; you could hear sweat fall.

"JUST DROP THE FUCKING PUCK, DAMNIT!!!"

America jumped, and spilled most of the pop corn. He also managed to miss seeing who got the puck. His eyes raced back and forth as he searched for the missing puck among the tangle of padded legs and blades. He could only catch short glimpses of it. One minute, a Canadian had it, next a Russian.

The puck was back to a Canadian player but was quickly cornered by two abnormally tall Russians. They looked like they were ready to kill the poor guy, but he wasn't out yet. Faking out the players, he smacked the puck to another teammate that the Russians had neglected to notice. As soon as he had the puck in the curve of his stick, he made a mad-dash for it, before the two dumbfounded players recovered.

Time seemed to pass by in slow motion. All sounds became muffled, even Canada's ranting. The other team was slowly closing in on the lone player. The clock ticked; 5, 4, 3, 2, and… BAM! Just like in the movies, the Canadian player made the shot, and got past the goalie, at the last possible moment. BEEP!

The crowed stood up and, as one, and screamed their uncontrollable excitement. An announcer's voice called out over the noise, but no one really took notice.

"YEAH! FUCK YEAH!" Canada screamed and grabbed America up into a hug that about snapped the poor man in half, and left him gasping for air. "TAKE THAT, RUSSIA, YOU COMUNIST BASTERED!"

America couldn't help but smile and cheer too. But one look to his right made him clamp up pretty fast. Russia and the three Baltic countries walked towards them, knocking a few people out of his way. He held a faucet pipe and had a crazed look in his eye. The Trembling Trio lived up to their name sake and looked like they were ready to make a break for it whenever the time called for it.

"You won, my maple syrup bottle sucking friend!" He taped the pipe ominously in his opposite hand. As he came to a stop uncomfortably close, America realized that he was in the middle of two, hockey crazed countries that wanted to end the other.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT, YOU VODKA FUCKER!"

"OH IT'S ON NOW!" Yelled Russia a raised his pipe over his head, preparing to smash someone's head in.

"AMERICA! LOOK OUT!"

America fell to the floor seconds before Canada punched the bigger country in the stomach and before Russia could kill either of them.

Russia stumble backwards and almost knocked Lithuania down and caused Latvia to scream, sending all three of them running for it like scattered dice. America held his arms to defend his head; he risked peek up at his brother. What he saw shocked him.

"WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET AN ICE PICK?!"

"I'M FUCKING CANADA! THAT'S WHAT I DO! NOW OUT OF THE WAY!"

America didn't need to be told twice. He quickly stood up and practically dived over two sets of seats and promptly fell on his ass.

Almost as soon as he hit the ground, all hell broke loose. Suddenly, the joyous celebration turned into a bloody free for all. Fans fought fans and players and viscera. People where even getting out on the freakin' rink to brawl it out. Someone had discovered the zambodi's hiding place and was driving on the ice like a mad person, taking random people out. For some strange reason, Latvia had been trying to make his escape across the rink and was unfortunatly cut down by the zamboni. The poor guy never had a chance.

America was slowly making his way by crawling. The floor was sticky and the whole exspericence was rather uncomfortable, but it was better than getting beamed with a fist or a hay-wire beer bottle. He turned his head behind him to see what was going on with his brother.

Russia was back on his feet again and looked even scarier than before. But his little brother, bless his fucked up heart, was not at all fazed by it. The two fought wildly with their weapons.

Taking in a shaky breath, America continued his way, sending silent prays for his brother. His heart gave a flutter as the green glow of the exit sign came into view. He gave out a small cry of relief and jumped to his feet, ready to run the last stretch. Just as he took his first step to freedom and sanity, WHAM! Something hit America in the back of the head and everything went black.

When he opened his eyes, all he could see was white. At first, he forgot what had happened, but slowly and painfully, it came back to him. He then assumed that he was dead and was now in heaven or whatever. Russia must have somehow seen him trying to leave and, like a boomerang, beamed him with his pipe.

America adjusted his head and gave an agonizing scream that sent flashes of pain up and down his body. He clutched at the back of his head. He didn't think you could still feel pain after you died.

"America!"

A figure cased a shadow across his face, making it a little easier to see. After the lights stopped dancing before his eyes, he recognized the concerned face of his little brother.

"C-Canada?"

His brother nodded and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Like my head is going to split in two," America ground, "What the heck happened. I just remember seeing the exit and the next I'm biting the dust."

Distress clouded his sweet brother's face and his voice was back to its normal whisper. "Well, one of my players kinda hit you in the back of the head with a hockey puck."

America couldn't help but laugh, which caused him the wince with pain. Canada gave a little chuckle and for the first time, America noticed his twin's own battle scars. One of his brilliant blue eyes was out lined in a sickly purple color and bruises littered all of his exposed skin. He had a feeling there were more he couldn't see. His glasses frame was also bent so they sat weird on his nose and an arm was wrapped in a splint.

"A-are you ok?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Canada laughed, rubbing tenderly at his injured arm. "It's nothing."

"What?! That's totally something, bro," America protested.

He shrugged. "It's nothing compared to what I did to him." America followed his brother's gesture and about fell out of his bed. Russia was sitting in the bed next to him, with two fully broken arms, nose, and a scar running across his right cheek.

"R-rus-ssia? What did you do to him?"

"Hey America," Russia said smiling. "He also broke my ribs." The guy sounded way too cheerful, considering his position.

America sunk into his pillow, wide eyed and stunned. Was the world high or something?

"Uh, h-how did you like the g-game?" America slowly turned to his shyly smiling sibling.

He blinked at him twice and then shrugged. "It was ok. Definitely an interesting game, I'll give it that, by WAY too violent for me."

"Says the guy who plays football," muttered Russia.

"You really think so?" Canada asked hopefully.

"Yeah," America coughed," I might not mind going again…if I freakin wanted to die!"

Canada stared at his brother, embraced of his actions at the game. "Yeah, something about hockey really gets my blood pumping, you know?"

All he could do was shake his head at his brother and chuckle. "You turned into a freaking monster!"

"I know…"

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, reflecting on the day before. Russia broke the silence. "Canada?"

The other country jumped and stuttered, "Y-yes?"

"Good game." Russia stuck out one of his broken arms in a hand shake, a genuine smile on his face.

Canada smiled back and blushed. Grabbing the out stretched and gently, he said, "You too."

"And also, good fight! I would have never expected so much violence out of you."

"Ha. Me neither. I got you pretty good!"

The two of them laughed and shook hands, recalling parts of their battle and snickering at them like it had been some kind of joke.

They stopped laughing as Estonia and Lithuania walked into the hospital room, caring a bouquet of flowers.

Russia smiled. "Estonia! Lithuania! Are those for me?"

The two smaller countries stared awkwardly at one another and then at their boss, afraid to say anything. Lithuania finally spoke up. "Um, actually, no."

Russia looked surprised. "If not for me, then who?"

Estonia pointed to the bed after him and said, "Latvia."

The three turned to look at the indicated bed, and all sputtered in surprise.

"L-Latvia?" Russia, America, and Canada screeched.

"Mmmhmm,"mumbled the figure lying on the bed in a full body cast. You couldn't even tell who that it was the poor kid.

America flopped his head back onto his pillow and stared at the ceiling. "Do I even want to know?"


End file.
